Why Must I Always Apologize?
by poetisa
Summary: After the events in Order of the Phoenix, Snape writes a letter...


Why Must I Always Apologize?  
  
Genre: Drama  
  
Rating: R (in this instance I prefer to err on the side of caution.)  
  
Spoilers: Books One through Five, especially Order of the Phoenix.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter series, or its attendant marketing machinery. J.K. Rowling created the series. Bloomsbury and Scholastic Books print them in the UK and the US. Warner Brothers has movie rights. As to the rest, let's just say, theirs, not mine. I am only writing about certain characters, from a perspective outside Ms. Rowling's. That is all.  
  
Nota bene: If I seem to be unsympathetic toward Albus Dumbledore, this is due to the fact that I truly have little sympathy for Hogwarts' headmaster. As I have read further into the series, I must confess, I like Gryffindor House less and less. Not to say that I think the Slytherins are little lambs, mind you. I think that, in attempting to thwart Riddle/Voldemort and his schemes, the mindset of "Gryffindor good, Slytherin bad" has become firmly entrenched, from the Headmaster to the first-year students. Yes, the prejudice has probably been around for ages (just as the Slytherin prejudice toward pureblooded wizards has been), but it seems in this time to have taken a rawer, more virulent form than ever. But, as the newly- minted GOP shill, Dennis Miller once said, "That's just my opinion, and I could be wrong."  
  
Summary: In the aftermath of events in OotP, Snape writes a letter. This is entirely in his POV.  
  
30 July 1996.  
  
Mr. Potter:  
  
I am writing this letter, with no hope that I shall ever pacify you, or persuade you to see things from my sight. Indeed, I write this letter in the sure knowledge that you will never read it, save after I have paid my debt in its proper coin, as you wish that I had.  
  
Don't bother telling me that you would not relish seeing me pay the debt owed you and your father to the fullest. You made no secret, from the start, that you disliked me. After the death of your godfather, you all but wished me in his place. Perhaps you think I got some pleasure out of his demise.  
  
I did, for a moment. The mean, petty pleasure of seeing the one man who made my school days a living hell, brought down several rungs. Ding-dong, the witch is dead, as the song went in that Muggle movie, what was it called?  
  
But then, I thought of you. Of Remus. And of the man who, if truth had prevailed, should have raised you. Not the dreary sister and brother-in- law of your Muggle-born mother. Truth be told, he would have made a more fitting guardian. You would have learned to fly, to tame your raw magic, to use your gifts to their fullest. You might have gotten more fresh air, more nourishment, maybe even a healthier perspective of the world at large. (No doubt, as I write this, your uncle and aunt are giving you backbreaking chores, feeding you barely enough to sustain energy, and deriding your parents. As for your cousin, when he's not thrashing smaller children with his gang of thugs, or pilfering pornography from a corner shop, he's probably demanding that you lick the filth from his boots, and sniggering at you in his hand-me-downs and threadbare trainers. Tell me, do I miss the mark, or have I just struck a nerve?)  
  
And perhaps you just might have believed Sirius, when he tried to explain that people are seldom purely good or purely evil. Would that he had attempted the explanation sooner! Ah well. People do very unwise things. No need for you to pipe up, sir. I am more than aware of all the ways in which I have managed to bollix my life, thank you! But you needn't worry; I shan't bore you with the litany.  
  
Albus has told me, time and again, that I should relinquish the grudges of my youth, forgive myself the wrongs I inflicted as a Death Eater, and suffer the malice and insults heaped upon me with grace and a gentle tongue. Ha. I doubt he could be so noble, had he been sorted into Slytherin, and forced to endure the taunts, slights, and, yes, threats dealt with impunity by students and professors from the other houses. I doubt that he would indulge Minerva as he does, when she gives points to her beloved Gryffindors, and takes points from Slytherin, all under my watch.  
  
Do I seem harsh, even bitter to you? Well, I am. I once wondered what life would be like if I could have followed my heart's true desires. But what I did, good or bad, I did, given the circumstances, of my own choosing.  
  
That said, let me ask you this, sir: what made you imagine that I would not push you to your limits in Occlumency? Or, indeed, in Potions class? Did you honestly believe that you could, with a word, stave off the Dark Lord or his servants? To fight the Dark Lord requires every fibre of your essence! You cannot defeat Voldemort unless you go beyond every limit of endurance. How do you expect to face him down---or anyone else---if you expect someone to hold your hand, night and day? I will not apologize for refusing to coddle you. If I did, I would be no better than Minerva or Albus for indulging you.  
  
Remus---there was an instructor, one who drew you out of your boundaries in DADA. That he did this without you fighting him, tooth and nail---what would I not have given to do the same?  
  
But he had the gift of persuasion, while I am, as you and your friends like to say, a "slimy Slytherin git," reeking of chemicals, with greasy hair and a vile complexion. I live to torment the oh-so-perfect Gryffindors, dock points, and mete out detentions. What was it Sirius called me, "Malfoy's lapdog?" Quite amusing, in light of the fact that he and your father allowed one slavering cur---or should I say, rat---the honour of their company. How easy it must be to sneer at a Slytherin currying favour, while accepting, if not expecting, fawning and adulation from another Gryffindor!  
  
What would your Mr. Weasley say if he understood just how much bowing and scraping he actually does in your presence? At some silent interval, he must marvel at how little of the glow from the Terrific Trio is really his own. Considering that period of coolness during the Triwizard Tournament, I can surmise that he has, at times, nursed resentment toward you, and toward Miss Granger as well. Yet he somehow manages to swallow his pride, and convince himself that all is well, you are the best of friends, and nothing will ever tear you apart. What will he do if the two of you grow apart?  
  
What will you do, Mr. Potter, if he and Miss Granger leave you behind? In one sense, they already have. They are a world unto themselves, just as your father and mother became a world unto themselves. They have private moments, secret jokes, and the like---from which you are barred, because you are not in love, not part of a couple. And if, despite their best efforts, you remain single, you may find yourself regarded with pity. "Poor Potter, saved the wizarding world, but he can't get past the first date."  
  
You're quite right. I am jaded. But keep this in mind: I have lived a few years more than you, and it seems miracle enough, at this time, that I have neither died at the Dark Lord's hand, nor by my own. Oh, don't roll your eyes and mutter. I have betrayed, hurt, and killed others. And I have been on the receiving end of the first two, not to mention gone on missions declared too dangerous for anyone else of the Order. If I told you that I had never thought of taking my life, I would be lying. And you, Mr. Potter, would have every right to tell me so.  
  
From time to time, I wonder, what would have happened if I had simply dropped out of the wizarding world altogether? What would life have been like if, instead of playing double agent for Albus, I decided to settle in some Muggle town, with a new identity? Would I take up gardening? Find work in a chemist's shop? Could I possibly find a way to reconcile my differences with Sirius, or with Remus?  
  
No doubt you'd have been happier if I had decided to renege on the debt I owed your father. Merlin, sometimes I wish I had. At least, I'd be free. And there are worse fates in this world than losing magic.  
  
Although my disappearance or death would cheer many, I remind myself that, down in the Slytherin dungeons, there are students that have to endure pariah status without committing suicide, or joining the ranks of the Death Eaters. They don't trust Albus, and while they might respect you, they trust that you will find some way to humiliate them, and worse, that your Head of House will reward you for treating them like cack.  
  
If you don't believe me, ask young Malfoy. Oh, no, you won't. He's a Junior Death Eater, a wretched ferret, a Pureblood brat with no sense of decency. Would that be, pray tell, anything like the decency which you, Weasley, and Granger meted to him at the end of the fourth year? Or maybe that bit of retaliation on the Hogwarts Express, earlier in the month, is the sort of decency you think he deserves? By no means do I consider my godson a saint. That he has, not yet, joined the Dark Lord is a marvel. He is vain, arrogant, and easily irritated. He never forgets an injury, and forgives very little. But he is also genuinely bright, a good flyer and athlete, and, at times, more thoughtful than either Lucius or Narcissa. He is alive in ways that his parents are not. When I see him attempting to live up to the Malfoy image, I want to weep.  
  
Not that the drabble of a jaundiced, former Death Eater interests you, though. Like everyone, you see what you want to see---a world where the heirs of Godric and the heirs of Salazar are, always and forever, mortal enemies.  
  
And with me, you will always persist in seeing a bastard who cares nothing for your life, who happily sends your godfather to his death, and who will never treat you with any sort of respect. To you, I am and remain an unforgiving berk, who should have died in lieu of Sirius Black.  
  
If you will not be satisfied until I have repaid the debts owed you and James---in full---so be it, then. No doubt Albus will, somehow, find a high-risk mission for me to undertake. In the event that he does, and I do not return alive, you will receive this letter. And you can rip it to shreds, incinerate it, line an owl cage with it.  
  
But I will ask you to deliver two letters, which I shall attach: one for Lupin, the other for Draco. There are arrangements to be made, and instructions concerning my possessions and the formulas for certain potions. Once you give these to the respective parties, you are free to do what you will with these ramblings of mine. That is all.  
  
I shall not write another letter of this kind, Mr. Potter. I have said as much as one can. All I want to do now is work, teach, and set my affairs in order.  
  
Forgive me for not dying in Sirius' place.  
  
Severus Snape  
  
Please, do let me know what you think. I welcome comment, critique, even flames. Thank you for reading.  
  
Antoinette (poetisa) 


End file.
